You Complete My Madness
by Dr.J.Crane
Summary: My version of JokerXHarley. Been done many times before. Starts off in Arkham, and eventually other places : Rated M for lewd sexyness and my love of bad language.
1. Patient 01

The indistinct mumbling of the Arkham's staff irritated the inmate beyond belief. He knew what they were discussing and he desperately wanted to be a part of it; the Asylum was due to have a new intern join its ranks, at the present time, the on-duty guards were taking bets to see how long the fool would last.

"Ten on the sucker getting himself killed on the first day" The overweight guard said to his colleague

"Nah, Marty, I'll give the poor fellow three days." He replied kicking the door of the cell beside him, angering the patient inside.

"You're on Frank!" Marty said grasping Frank's hand "Lets get outta here, the creeps here freak me out"

The patient in the cell smiled. His neighbour would find this very interesting.

"Are you afraid of us Marty?" a voice hissed from the darkness. "You know how much I love your fears." The last word was one of longing for the convict.

"Dr. Crane!" Frank shouted, banging his baton against cell door. "Shut the fuck up! I swear to God, keep your bat shit crazy stuff to your self!"

A burst of terrifying giggles burst out of the patient in the cell. Dr. Crane sighed and began humming a non-existent tune. The giggling from the patient grew louder and louder. It was a psychotic noise with what sounded like no end, he kicked out his legs and began kicking his walls, shaking with paralyzing giggles that were bouncing off the walls of Arkham's most secure unit, with the deadliest psycho's in Gotham.

Frank turned to Marty, his face was deathly pale. No guard in Arkham wanted to mess with the patient in the cell, no one wanted to speak to him and no one in their right mind tired to stop him laughing. Frank looked at the door; he cleared his throat and inched towards it, baton outstretched. He tapped the door lightly, the laughing stopped instantly.

"Now come on, your scaring the other patients" Frank said nervously

"Y...Yeah, stop, please?" Marty added hastily

There was an utter silence, the patient giggled once.

"D'ya hear that Jonnie boy! I'm scaring the other patients!" He cackled, speaking to his neighbour.

"Oooh, and here I was under the impression the blundering bastards that call themselves guards were the ones that were scared of you!" Dr. Crane laughed

The two guards decided that they'd had enough of his teasing and opened the door to the patient's cell. Cautiously they stepped in, hesitating with every step, not knowing what the most feared man in Arkham, in Gotham, was going to do. Very slowly, the patient in question slipped out of his bed, shrouded in darkness, invisible and crept towards the oncoming guards, he could sense their fear, their reluctance to be in the same room with him, he fingered the pocket of his Arkham patient outfit, finding the modified playing card he had stashed there, he slipped the card out, not wanting to make a noise.

"Where is he?" Marty asked nervously, his pungent body odour filling the room quickly.

"For Gods sake Marty! He's in here somewhere! Just grope around." Frank scoffed, a slight nervousness entering his voice.

The patient inched forward again, slowly, slowly, not needing to rush.

He grasped the card in-between his thumb and forefinger and waited for the perfect moment. Marty turned is back on the patient and searched the opposite area of the room, whilst Frank came towards him, blindly unaware of him oncoming fate.

It was over in a flash, forty seven years of life over in less than 6 seconds, but for the patient it lasted a lifetime. He grabbed the front of his guard uniform, put his hand over his mouth to stop him screaming and before he had time to struggle, slit his throat with the metal tipped edge of the card. Marty noticed the disturbance and ran over to help his colleague, before he died the same way as his friend. Marty Jones had time to scream his last two words on this earth.

"NO! JOKER!"

**Harro!**

**well it's been a while since Ive done ANYTHING!**

**D:**

**Bet you couldnt figure out who the 'patient' was :D**

**Next chapter coming up. And Ladies and Gentelmen Miss Harleen Quinzel will be telling her story!**

**Lx  
**


	2. Dr Harleen Frances Quinzel

Harleen woke as she usually did. Crying. Her bad dreams just didn't want to go away. Every night without fail the remaining memories of her childhood that she hadn't repressed came back to haunt her. Her mother, ignoring her cries as she broke her arm on the tree in their yard, her father hitting her for being minuets late home, her brothers, teasing her relentlessly for developing breasts, her high school cheerleaders burning her clothes when she was in the showers after gymnastics. Every taunting, resentful memory flooded back to her at night like some sick joke.

Realizing that she wasn't going to get any sleep, Harleen stretched, rubbed her eyes clean from the tears and padded through her apartment. She walked in to her living room and glanced out of the window, she had a good view of Gotham, however it was marred by the enormous Wayne Tower. She hated Bruce Wayne for all the wrong reasons; she hated that he had such a privileged lifestyle, that he bought his way into the most prestigious schools and colleges while the rest of Gotham had to struggle. She had spent her whole life trying to achieve what she had and now Bruce Wayne was going to try and destroy it! She didn't want t work at Arkham Asylum but thanks to Mr. Wayne's stupid fucking company, they were demolishing the building that she worked in. Now she had to go and take an internship at Arkham. Harleen had always had a thing for extreme personalities, she just didn't know if working with such psychopaths was going to be good for her. She shook herself.

"I shouldn't be thinking like this!" she thought to herself "I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it!"

Walking into the kitchen Harleen noticed the front headline of the newspaper; she must have ignored it when she came home from work.

"JOKER KILLS ARKHAM PSYCHAITRIST – PROBE LAUNCHED"

"Hmm," she thought to herself, "I sincerely hope he died peacefully"

5 hours later

After prying herself from her relaxing bath, Harleen rushed- in a whirlwind of activity- to get ready for her first day as an intern at Arkham, dressing in a simple button down blouse and knee high skirt, she slipped on her heels, tied up her hair, put a very small amount of make up on and ran from her apartment, almost forgetting to lock the door.

Harleen caught the Gotham subway, and headed for her first day at Arkham, hoping everything went well.


	3. The Clown Meets His Jester

Joker sat in his cell and stared at the ceiling. Of course he had heard that there was a new intern at Arkham. His "neighbor" in the cell next to him had informed him at lunch.

Twisting round so that he was on his stomach, the Jester banged the wall to alert said neighbor.

"Jonnie! Your not having a wank are you?" he queried

"You've never been tactful have you? Of course not!" the man in the cell answered

"Oh, well, how did you hear about the intern?" The Clown asked giggling

"Nigma. Obviously, God Joker, that man's a bigger gossip than Dr. Leland!"

A short silence was cut by a maniacal laugh from the world's most hated Jester

"Oh Jonnie you make me laugh! Well see ya at lunch my straw filled friend!"

Jonathon smiled to himself. Being friends with the Joker was something he had not expected to happen. It just kind of did. When he had first came to Arkham, the infamous Joker had hated him, to his very core, partly because Jonathon had been the Joker's psychiatrist. The hatred had resulted in broken ribs, nose and arm all on Jonathon's body, he never was very good at hand to hand combat. But out of the blue one day at lunch, one of the other inmates had taunted Jonathon and picked up his tray to hit him with it, and there was Joker, quick as lighting, the thug had a fork in his eye and that cemented the friendship it had seemed. And now the two were rather firm friends.

Joker sat up and waited for the new intern to arrive, because unlike normal employees, this unfortunate was being assigned to the "Rogues Gallery", basically where the most dangerous and famous criminals were kept. He hoped he would get a glimpse at the fool, before someone else killed him that is. He closed his eyes and listened, he could hear mumblings, shrieks and other strange noises, he grinned, showing his yellowing teeth, he was truly home, amongst the lunatics and freaks, societies lowest scum and a few genuine psychopaths. Yes this was where he could relate to his equals, well, mostly, they didn't understand his plan for Gotham and, perhaps, one day the world.

Amongst the noises, he heard an unfamiliar sound, especially in the "Rouges" Gallery, where - through no sexism, every employee was male – the click, click, click of female heels.

The Clown Prince of Crime raised one emerald eyebrow and sauntered over to the steel bars on his door, he scanned the floor and listened to the clicking grow louder. Dr. Leland stepped forward and swept her arm around showing the cells.

"Miss Quinzel this is where you will be working-" she began

"Call me Harley, everybody does!"


End file.
